All language subtitles for One Hundred Years of Solitude s01e16 100 Years of Solitude.eng

For over 15 years,

Aureliano Babilonia,

under the despotic yoke
of Fernanda del Carpio�

was confined to Melquiades's laboratory,

which he only left to eat.

He memorized the fantastic legends
from the unbound book.

A round of applause
for Fernanda del Carpio.

He memorized the synthesis
of the studies of Hermann the Cripple,

the keys to the philosopher's stone,

Centuries by Nostradamus,
and his research on the plague.

He reached adolescence
without knowing anything about his time,

but with the basic knowledge
of a medieval man.

That word, "dharma,"

is in the Ramcharitmanas as well,
which is in Hindi.

He seemed to talk to himself.

In reality,

he was talking to Melquiades.

That's right, my dear Aureliano.

Now tell me, boy.

What language is it written in?

In Sanskrit, Melquiades.

You have time to learn it.

But not much time.

Then, you can decipher the manuscript

and finally know your origin.

In the alley,

where in the times of the banana company

they foresaw the future,

there is a wise Catalan.

He has a bookstore.

Alley of the Future.

There is a Sanskrit primer there.

You'll find it between Jerusalem Delivered
and Milton's poems,

on the far right�

of the second shelf of the bookcases.

The second shelf.

I'll clean the wound.

Don't worry.

Relax.

They're the roses from the wreaths.

Sometimes, I forget to remove the thorns.

My great-grandmother,

Renata�

was a queen.

And now,

thanks to you�

I'll be the queen of Madagascar.

And our children�

We'll have two.

She'll be the queen of Belgium.

And he�

he'll be the king

of the whole Church.

I'm going to carry you.

Don't be scared.

I - AURELIANO AND FERNANDA

Aureliano Babilonia,

who had entered Fernanda's room
so few times in his life,

had an unforeseen burst of temerity
at that moment,

and was able to see Amaranta �rsula again.

Dear Mother,

I write to you with great happiness.

I will prolong my studies in Belgium.

Although I'm very excited,

it's hard for me to know
that my stay here will extend.

And Macondo--

What are you doing?

You know you're not allowed
to enter my room.

Get out!

Bastard.

You never should've been born.

The house did not lack food.

Every Wednesday,
a basket of supplies would arrive.

Fernanda never knew

the provisions were sent by Petra Cotes

with the idea that the continued charity

was a way to humiliate the one
who had humiliated her.

Aureliano would perform
the kitchen duties.

Even in these circumstances,

they did not share the solitude.

Everything I've given that wretch,
and now he's robbing me.

I should've slammed the door
in that nun's face.

The worst mistake of my life.

Worse than having married a lout.

A wise Catalan.

Aureliano lacked the elements
to decipher the manuscripts.

He decided to talk to Fernanda

so she'd let him look
for the book Melquiades discussed.

He was so certain
that his permission wouldn't be denied

that he cut his hair,

he shaved his tangled beard,

and he put on tight pants
he inherited from who knows who.

There's no way that this idiot
doesn't understand

that the salad fork
doesn't go with the knife.

And red wine is not served with chicken.

Ma'am.

Pardon me.

-I didn't mean to scare you.
-I�

I am not a Conservative spy.

Please.

Relax.

I had nothing to do
with the attempt on your life, Colonel.

Absolutely nothing!

-Relax.
-Stay away from me!

Relax, Fernanda.

-I said stay away from me!
-Drop the knife.

-I'm ordering you!
-Fernanda, it's me.

Where did you get that uniform?

What do you want?

I wanted your permission
to go to town to buy some books.

Over my dead body�

will I let Macondo know of the existence
of the bastard of the Buend�as.

I won't tell anyone who I am.

I swear.

What insolence.

With everything that I have given
that ingrate.

Beloved son�

I count the days to your return.

I have the house ready to receive you
with the highest of honors.

You will be here very soon�

and we will be a happy family again.

You can share with me
the riches from our kingdom.

JOS� ARCADIO BUEND�A

Entranced by her own monarchical gestures,

she had converted her royal attire
into a memory machine.

She felt so old,

so tired,

so far from the best hours of her life.

She even longed
for the worst hours she could recall.

The need to feel sad

was becoming a vice
as the years ravaged her.

Aureliano granted himself the permission
that Fernanda had denied

and left the house for the first time.

In truth, over the years,

he could've escaped a thousand times,

but the prolonged captivity

and the uncertainty of the world

had dried up the seeds of rebellion
in his heart.

Alley of the Future, wise Catalan.

Alongside Milton's poems.

He walked without stopping the 11 blocks
that separated the house and the alley.

Nothing that he saw interested him,

perhaps because he lacked the memories
to compare.

Oedipus' vicious cycle is false.

You're right!

True.

Look.

He's drunk. He's confused the bookstore
with The Golden Boy.

Good for you.

Today's the last day of Carnival,
burying a colonel is tradition.

True.

Listen to me, guys.

The world will be fucked for good

the day men travel in first class

and literature in the baggage car.

No, but listen to me.

I'm telling you,
Oedipus' vicious cycle is false.

He knew what he was doing
when he slept with his mother.

True.

That's right, man.

From the most sublime to the most abject,
poetry was invented.

Okay now�

But what about Rebal�as?

He was such a moron!

I don't think there's only 840 ways
to touch one's ass!

You must be crazy.

The last to read these
must've been Isaac the Blind,

so think about what you're doing.

Here. Take them.

What is that?

�it's a ghost you're thinking of
when you drink.

It's all in the past. Let's drink!
Fuck that, Rebal�as!

Fuck, let's drink!

Look at that guy!

Good evening.

-Where to?
-Scared?

I'm looking for the Buend�as' house.

We won't hurt you, Colonel.

-No, not the books.
-Are you afraid?

Easy. What do you have there?

Do you have anything else, Colonel?

Jeez, you sure are jumpy!

Please, stop! They're mine!

No!

Stop it, please.

Please.

Please. I have nothing, I swear.

I have nothing.

-You have nothing, Colonel?
-Bad Colonel.

-You say you have nothing, huh?
-Damn liar!

Is this gold?

Give it back.

No way. Let's see if they accept it
at the brothel.

-Let's go.
-Please.

This is for lying!

Let's go. Hurry!

Fucking man!

Sleep well, honey.

You'll be safe here.

Thank you for taking me in, sir.

Thank my granddaughter.

She was the one
who found you in the street.

You slept for 18 hours, son.

You must be hungry.

I'm going home.

Here.

Thank you.

The fish Colonel Aureliano Buend�a made.

"Love from afar,
your daughter Amaranta �rsula."

-You'd be shocked here.
-"You'd be shocked here."

"Europeans aren't like Macondons."

"I understand this decision
may cause you concern, but I am well."

Why don't I get letters from the cannibal?

-I miss Macondo�
-"I miss Macondo."

�but Brussels fills me with life.

Tell the cannibal
that I longingly remember

when we'd hunt scorpions.

Tell me what's going on at home,
in Macondo, with Aureliano.

I never hear from him.

During Belgium's long winters,

it's impossible not to remember
those years of endless downpour

while we ran among puddles and swamps.

I miss you more than ever.

"Your daughter, Amaranta."

It was impossible to think of a man
more like his mother.

Bring them in.

II - AURELIANO AND JOS� ARCADIO

Aureliano had vaporized mercury

to conserve the body
according to Melquiades's formula.

Four months later,

when Jos� Arcadio arrived,

he found her intact.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord.

And let perpetual light shine upon her.

When did she die?

A few months ago.

My mother spoke of you.

Leave me alone with her.

Forgive, I pray, O Lord,

the soul of your servant,

so that, released from the bonds of death,

she may come to eternal life.

Lord, have mercy.

Christ, have mercy.

May she rest in peace, grant her, O Lord.

And let perpetual light
shine upon her for eternity.

Amen.

Bastard, come.

I get up at 5:15,

and I want breakfast on the table
at 6:00 after morning prayers.

Bastard.

I like them warm and boiled.

I don't know
what this disgusting juice is.

I want freshly squeezed orange juice.

If you like your eggs warm,
make them yourself.

There were no oranges,
so get used to guava.

That's all there is.

Fucking bastard.

My mother told me you were incorrigible.

You are the incorrigible one.
You can't even wipe your own ass.

I also speak German and French.

And Latin better than you.

I don't know what you said
when you buried your mother

but it wasn't the Requiem Mass.

Where's the gold hidden?

-What gold?
-Where?

-My mother talked about it!
-What?

"We'll soon be a happy family."

"You'll share the riches with me."
Where is it?

Your mom was crazy. It's not here.

Mama �rsula supposedly had treasure,
but no one ever found it.

The golden fish are all that's left.

-Where?
-In the workshop.

I don't know what I was thinking
coming back to his house

in the middle of nowhere!

For years,
Jos� Arcadio entertained his mother

with his lie
about his pontifical pursuits.

He abandoned the seminary
as soon as he got to Rome,

and he continued feeding the legend
of theology and canon law

to not put into danger
his fabulous bequest

that his mother's delirious letters
spoke of.

At night, during his childhood,

Jos� Arcadio would sweat in fear

under the glacial stares
of the tattling saints.

It was useless torture

because at that time,
he was afraid of everything around him.

The women of the house
who birthed children with pig tails,

the fighting cocks causing men's deaths,

remorse of conscience,

the mistaken businesses
that only drove one to madness,

and everything,

everything that God had created

with infinite goodness
and that the devil had perverted.

Hey.

How will we survive?
We only have sweets and alcohol.

Why do we need food?

The Lord's blood satiates
our hunger and thirst.

You have to go buy real food.

My mother told me
she didn't let you leave.

So Macondo wouldn't find out about
the existence of the Buend�a bastard.

But now, I am the king of this house,
and I grant you permission to leave.

My son!

Go.

Get more food and wine.

No, I'm not going out. You go.

Well,

if you don't want to go out,

then I invite you to help me
destroy all these relics.

Go on, drink.

Drink.

You're not going to tell me
that you like how all those degenerates

judge others with their sinister looks?

Come on, bastard! This one! Come on!

That's it. On the floor!

On the floor, bastard!

One, two, three!

We have to burn it all, bastard!

Many times
during the dazzling Roman August,

he opened his eyes mid-sleep,

and he had seen Amaranta
emerging from a marble-edged pool

with her bandaged hand,

idealized by the anxiety of exile.

Her name was Amaranta.

I loved her more than my mom.

She would spend hours counting my moles.

She gave each of them a name.

I love her more than my life.

She comes to me in my dreams.

Every night.

We're running out of wine, bastard.

This is very serious.

Very serious.

We still have this.

You have to come to town with me
to get more wine.

Come on.

Aureliano was surprised

that Jos� Arcadio was so different
from the image that he had of him.

That peace between two lonely souls
of the same blood

was far from friendship�

Okay now.

�but it allowed them to better endure
the fathomless solitude

that both separated and united them.

No one remembers us, bastard. Come on.

-Ma'am!
-Too many people.

Ma'am. It's nice to meet you.
We are Jos� Arcadio and Aureliano Buend�a.

Do you remember us?

She doesn't remember.
The blessing. Father, Son, Holy Spirit.

No one remembers the Buend�as, bastard.
Do you remember?

Gentlemen!

Macondo was founded
by Jos� Arcadio Buend�a.

He had two sons,

Aureliano, an exemplary military man,

and Jos� Arcadio,
an adventurer of the seas.

Cheers!

No one remembers them.

Do you remember them?

Gentlemen!

Ladies!

Jos� Arcadio, His Holiness,
is speaking to you.

I want to introduce you to none other
than Aureliano, the son of sin.

From paradise to misery!

Aureliano Segundo, my father,
had a twin brother,

Jos� Arcadio Segundo.
They brought the train, remember?

No one remembers us, bastard.

No one remembers us.

The Golden Boy.

Come on.

THE GOLDEN BOY

MEN

The Golden Boy was a zoo-themed brothel
where the air had a naive weight,

as if they had just invented it.

The beautiful mulattos that hopelessly
awaited between bloody petals

knew the business of love that man
had forgotten in the worldly paradise.

I know you.

You are Jos� Arcadio.

And you have the face of an Aureliano.

The same look.

The same. Nice to meet you.

In that greenhouse of illusions,

Pilar Ternera was the splendid
and taciturn old woman

who watched the entryway.

They finally recognized us, bastard.

Cheers!

I know why you're here.

You're both in love.

And you need to forget.

Nigromanta!

Nigromanta, my child, come here!

Help me with these boys.
Take care of them.

Of course, Mama.

Excuse me. Thank you.

Thank you.

Move.

-Did you finish your book?
-What?

-I thought you left.
-Jos� Arcadio.

-Nice to meet you.
-Gabriel Garc�a.

If he knows you, that means that you left
the house before, you lying bastard.

Just once.
It was the worst experience of my life.

And what other secrets do you have?

-No other secrets, Your Holiness.
-I know you.

When I picked you up,
you looked like a scolded dog.

Cheers!

To the scolded dog.

Cheers!

To the pleasure of seeing you again.

Careful. Don't step on her.

Cockroaches are the oldest winged insect
on the face of the earth.

Yeah.

Neither that night, nor the next,
did Aureliano return home.

See? Like this!

Meanwhile, Jos� Arcadio brought the boys
over to play at the house,

where they had parties
that would go till sunrise.

But gentlemen, let's not forget.
Cervantes was an asshole!

And Shakespeare was a bastard!

-Long live literature!
-Long live!

Welcome to the splendid Macondo Theater.

Well, what's left of it.

The cinema is a subsidiary art of theater.

-Subsidiary.
-Of theater.

Aureliano continued meeting up
with the four debaters every night.

Gabriel,

�lvaro, Germ�n, and Alfonso.

The first and last friends
he'd have in his life.

Jos� Arcadio converted the house
into a decadent paradise.

Even late into the night, they were heard
yapping and singing and dancing,

swimming like birds that fly
in a golden sky of fragrant bubbles.

The house was like a boys' school
free of discipline.

While Aureliano felt bound
to the four friends by the same affection,

he was closest to Gabriel.

They say Colonel Aureliano Buend�a
drew a chalk circle

that no one could enter.

The bond was born when he casually
brought up Colonel Aureliano Buend�a.

Gabriel didn't doubt the reality
of the colonel.

He had been a brother-in-arms

and inseparable friend
of his great-grandfather,

Colonel Gerineldo M�rquez.

So you do remember?

There were 3,000 men thrown in the sea.

Of course, son.

In here!

Bastard!

There was treasure, bastard.

The only place I didn't think to look
was under Mama �rsula's bed.

And my boys found it there.

Those boys are dangerous.

No, bastard.

Thanks to them, we're rich.

We can remodel the house
to both our liking.

We'll be able to live like kings.

Come. I'll treat you to a feast.

Have some champagne.

Cheers!

Cheers to the Buend�a family fortune!

-Here.
-Not now. I'm tired.

What the hell?

-What the hell was that?
-How should I know?

Let's go.

In the exhausting insomnia,

he again measured the depth
of his misfortunes�

while going through the dark house

where the dead would wander
from nightfall.

What are you doing?

Get out, sissies! Out!

Out, sissy.

Get out of here! Out!

We'll be back!

Enraged not so much by the damage

but by the disgust and pity
he felt for himself,

he expelled the boys,

which he wouldn't have done
even to coyotes.

Where are the boys?

I threw them out.

I was tired of them.

I'll get some food from the square.

Get some asthma salts from the pharmacy.

I'm going to take a bath.

Hey.

Get some rum.

He continued like this,

lost,

contemplating the bitterness
of his mistaken pleasures.

The four boys busted in
through the shingles.

It was so fast, methodical, and brutal

that it seemed like a military attack.

Only then

did Aureliano see
how much he had started to love him.

Good evening, Cannibal.

You've been snoring.

How are the parties here now?

Whoever destroys the house
gets all the rum?

Cat got your tongue?

Long time no see.

Go shower. You smell like a marmoset.

Go.

I'll make lunch.

III - AURELIANO AND AMARANTA �RSULA

Wine or juice?

Juice, thanks.

You talk?

I thought you had no tongue.

What was my brother like?

My mother spoke wonders,
but I never knew him.

Well, he was�

He was a sad man.

He lived in the past�

but he was a good man, generous.

In some ways, he reminded me of Aureliano,

your dad.

I thought you were happy in Belgium.

I was.

But I woke up every morning
dreaming I was here.

Are you going to stay here?

Honey!

It's ready.

This is Cannibal. He's like my brother.

My husband.

He says he'll open an airmail company.

Can you imagine planes in Macondo?

Gast�n. Nice to meet you.

What are you doing? This makes no sense.
It's impossible to kill all the ants.

"Impossible" isn't French.

Are you going to draw another beetle?

Know what I'm going to do?

Know what I'm going to do?

I'm not going to draw a beetle!

Even though he was at least
15 years older than her,

his juvenile pleasures,

his vigilant determination
to make her happy,

and his virtues as a good lover
compensated for the difference.

Pull out all these weeds
and over there too.

Corozo juice is earned.
We don't like the lazy.

-The lumps must be--
-Gentle lady.

Would you do me the honor
of accompanying me

to the beautiful city of Macondo?

It was inconceivable that a woman of
that spirit would go back to a dead town.

It's beautiful, right?

Depressed by dirt and heat.

This is the Turks' street.
I told you about it.

There were flying carpets everywhere.

Yes, I remember.

And over there
is Aureliano Triste's ice store.

That one?

She told Gast�n about Macondo,

the brightest and most peaceful town
in the world,

and of an enormous house,
perfumed with oregano,

where she wanted to grow old
with a loyal husband

and their two wild boys
named Rodrigo and Gonzalo,

and not Aureliano and Jos� Arcadio
in any case,

and a daughter named Virginia,
and not Remedios in any case.

Aureliano was still a virgin
when Amaranta �rsula returned to Macondo.

Nigromanta took him to her bed,

and her fierce, hardened,
heartless whore body

prepared to serve him
as if he were a scared little boy.

She quickly found herself with a man
whose tremendous power

demanded a movement
of seismic readjustment from her entrails.

I thought you died.
You haven't come out in days.

-Wasn't the sky supposed to be falling?
-Here.

Does the noise bother you?

I'll tell the workers to go.

Other noises are more annoying.

Amaranta, I'm studying.

What do you want?

Why didn't you ever respond?

I wrote to you, but Mom said
you didn't want to hear from me,

so I stopped.

You hate me. I deserted you
and left you with her, is that it?

I don't hate you.

Why won't you talk to me, then?

Because I'm studying.

What are you studying so hard?

What is that huge book about?

I don't know.
I'm trying to figure that out.

Why? Are there no other books to read?

I've already read them all.

You've read every book in the world?

The ones worth reading.

Amaranta �rsula would come
to the room occasionally.

She would stay there for a few minutes�

while her husband was guarding the sky,

awaiting the plane
he wanted to bring to Macondo.

By then, Gast�n had mounted
all the insects in the region.

Get out!

Go get your shitty little airplane.

It's bad enough
with the ants invading this house.

It's just for one season!

Nothing will happen here
or to the shitty house--

What did you say?

Shitty house. Did you say "shitty house"?

Yes! You said that!

Amaranta, stop!

Please.

Why are you so attached to Macondo?
I don't get it.

And you never will.

Darling.

Darling.

Calm down.

She died in her rocking chair,

after a night of partying,

watching the entrance of her paradise.

Oh, my mother!

My mom left to never come back!

Oh, my mother!

Holy Mary, Mother of God

Pray for us sinners

Now and at the hour of our death, amen

Jesus�

Hail Mary, Mother of God, pray for us�

It was the end.

In Pilar Ternera's grave,

between psalms and beads of prostitutes,

the rubble of the past decomposed.

What are you up to?

Reading the same book until I decipher it.

There's nothing left for anyone here.

I'm going to Paris.

Mercedes is there.

Okay.

When you get there,

go to Henri Champion's bookstore,
in the Latin Quarter,

and send me Reynard the Fox

and The Song of Roland.

Rum, please.

It comes to an end for me.

It comes to an end for you.

Everyone, listen.

The Golden Boy is closed.

The party's over.

See you, pal.

Goodbye, Aureliano Buend�a.

Goodbye, Gabriel Garc�a.

Having friends is a bitch.

What happened?

Nothing. I cut myself.

You're too mischievous to be a good bat.

Where were you?

Everyone's leaving Macondo.

Not everyone, Cannibal.

That's good there.

Don't abandon me again, Amaranta.

Aureliano, stop.

Don't leave me.

Every night I dream
you call me your captor.

Idiot.

I'm on the first boat out.

Honey.

Listen to this.

"We are embarrassed to confirm
that the airplane was sent to Tanganyika,

where it was delivered
to the Makondos tribe."

"But we are now arranging your trip
to Macondo, in Latin America."

Why are you laughing?

Incredible!

It was 4:30 in the afternoon

when Amaranta �rsula got out of the bath.

What are you doing?

Waiting for you to go to Belgium.

Go.

The town had gotten
to such levels of inactivity

that only decapitated mannequins remained
in the gloomy shop windows.

Stop!

Stop!

What is this?

Incredible!

Run, Cannibal!

In that Macondo,
forgotten by even the birds,

where the dust and heat had become
so tenacious that it was hard to breathe�

confined by solitude and love
in a house impossible to sleep in

due to the racket of the red ants,

Aureliano and Amaranta �rsula
were the only happy ones.

They were the happiest on Earth.

In that paradise of disasters,

they lost their sense of reality

and gave themselves over
to worship their bodies.

Good morning, Cannibal.

You're up.

We're going to have a baby.

What?

When? How?

What'd you think would happen?

What's wrong?

"The Buend�as cannot marry each other.
Your children will have pig's tails."

That's what Mama �rsula said.

But we're not siblings.

My mom called you "the bastard."

She said she found me
floating in a basket.

That baby cannot be born.

Soldiers!

Ready!

Set!

Fire, shoot!

Fire!

Eight, eight, eight!

Hey, Buend�a!

Maybe that rooster of yours
can do your wife a favor.

Bastards!

You can have the minute that's left!

The church is closed.

I'm not here to pray.

That's fine.

God has abandoned this town.

I need to see the baptism records.

The rats ate them all.

Please, I have to know who my parents are.
It's urgent.

What's your name, son?

Don't let it eat you up.

There was a street
with that name years ago.

Around that time,

people would name their children
after streets.

So you don't believe it either.

Believe what?

That Colonel Aureliano Buend�a fought
in 32 civil wars and lost them all.

That the army cornered
and gunned down 3,000 workers

and took the bodies in a 200-car train
to the sea to dump them.

Oh, son.

Being sure that you and I exist right now
would be enough for me.

Aureliano and Amaranta �rsula
accepted the basket story,

not because they believed it,

but because it calmed their fears.

Who would've thought
that we'd end up like cannibals?

That's it.

He's quite the cannibal.

Let's call him Rodrigo.

No, let's call him Aureliano.

He's going to win 32 wars.

Okay.

His name will be Aureliano.

Rest.

Don't worry now.

Don't worry.

We'll cut it when he's older.

Provided he learns to talk.

What's wrong?

Relax.

People like me
aren't made to die against their will.

Wait here, baby.

Come on. That's it.

At that prodigious instant,

Melquiades's final keys
were revealed to him.

He saw the epigraph
of the parchments perfectly placed

in the time and space of men.

The first of the line tied to a tree�

and the last�

being eaten by ants.

Aureliano had never been more lucid

than when he forgot about the deceased

and the pain of the deceased.

Melquiades had not put the events in order
of man's conventional time,

but concentrated a century of episodes

in a way that they all coexisted
in an instant.

He read without any difficulty,

as if they had been written in Spanish.

He found his own conception

among the scorpions
and yellow butterflies.

He discovered Amaranta �rsula
wasn't his sister,

but his aunt.

Then, the warm wind whispered,

full of voices from the past,

of sighs of disappointments
before the most tenacious nostalgia.

Aureliano then began to decipher
the instant he was living�

prophesying himself.

Before the final verse,

he already understood
he wouldn't leave the room,

as it was foreseen
that the city of mirrors,

or the mirages,

would be wiped out by the wind�

and exiled from the memory of men

in the instant
he finished deciphering the parchments,

and everything written on them

was unrepeatable
since time immemorial and forever more�

because the lineages condemned
to 100 years of solitude

did not have a second chance on earth.

ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE

Subtitle translation by: Alison Woods

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